Doing Wichita
by patricia51
Summary: Columbus is driving Wichita wild, making her moan aloud with pleasure. Who knew that he was capable of doing that to her? Not him.


Doing Wichita by patricia51

(Columbus is driving Wichita wild, making her moan aloud as he pleasures her. Who knew that he was capable of doing that to her? Not him.)

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

There's a pause.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

I brace myself.

"Goddddddddddddddd."

"Wichita! Tallahassee and Little Rock could be back any moment and they would hear."

"Who cares? Just don't stop!"

I'm pretty sure that no one, least of all me, would have believed that it was what I was doing that was making Wichita moan and cry out like she is. Me, who had barely even dreamed of any girl before much less one as beautiful as her. Me, who never even had a fantasy like this. But here she is and here I am and I AM the one doing it.

I'm getting ahead of myself a little though I guess. How did we end up here, here being defined as not only the bedroom we're occupying right now but the house where that bedroom is located? It's not a very long story. Hopefully. I want to get back to Wichita. Wouldn't you?

We were just leaving the park; in fact Tallahassee had just used his car door to nail the last moving zombie when we turned back. We had to do that. As smitten as all four of us were with the realization that we had become a family (and Tallahassee with the remnants of his Twinkie) we had taken a quick stock of our weapons situation and went back to recover the various ones that Tallahassee had discarded during his trip around the park's rides.

The thing was we had my double-barrel shotgun, empty; Wichita's shotgun, also empty and Little Rock's pump rifle, empty as well. Notice a pattern here? True, Tallahassee still had the two pistols he had used to decimate the zombies that had invaded the park after the girls had turned everything on but he had exactly three rounds for both of them. The odds of us finding another Hummer loaded with automatic weapons? Slim and none. So we retrieved his weapons. Another shotgun, an assault rifle and the Uzi submachine gun made a nice arsenal. All we needed was ammunition. It's pretty hard to follow the double-tap rule when all you can do is click the trigger at a zombie.

Now it's not like you can just stroll on down to Wal-Mart and drop by their sporting goods department. Of course I always tried to avoid Wal-Mart anyway. Too many people and don't even get me started on the bathrooms there. Besides, zombies tend to stay around the place they became infected. They don't drive and they don't take long hikes. In fact after a while their cardio sucks. That's why you have to keep up your own.

Not knowing exactly where to start we went to the one place we knew didn't have any zombies. We went back to Bill Murray's place. Yeah, the whole idea was a bit creepy, the place where I had shot him. But in fairness to me Tallahassee had thought he was a zombie at first and Wichita had hit him with a golf club. So I wasn't the only one who was fooled. And as he said, he never was very good at practical jokes.

We built a low fire again and sat around it for a while. No Monopoly though, we were way too tired. After a bit the other two wandered off to sleep leaving Wichita and I in front of the fire, propped up on a pile of cushions. It was wonderful. I got to brush her hair back from her ear again and we snuggled and fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next day we commenced our search for ammunition after picking up food and water and filling the vehicle with gas. We had debated taking another one but no one was comfortable with the idea of splitting our foursome up even to drive. Now that we were together we were going to stay that way.

Tallahassee had an idea. While I suspect more than a bit of that idea revolved around the possibility of finding an unlooted stash of Twinkies it was a good one and we followed it. We went on a search for an out of the way country store. They still exist and we found one sitting on a crossroads. Tallahassee was able to take out the former proprietor who turned out to be the only zombie. There was enough ammo there, along with other supplies, to keep us going for a good long time.

The next step was to follow a nearby dirt road to where it ended at a single two story house. Amazingly there was no one there, alive or dead. So we moved in. We shuttled stuff from the store and made ourselves at home. Tallahassee was disappointed that there weren't zombies to kill (he was somewhat mollified because he had found a twelve pack box of Twinkies in the store). So he went on expeditions to the surrounding countryside. Occasionally, reluctantly, Wichita allowed Little Rock to go with him after extracting numerous promises the older man would keep her safe.

Not that she really needed to have worried about that. Obviously before the shit-storm of the infection Tallahassee had been an awesome dad. And nowadays he felt that way towards Little Rock. He was gruff sometimes but he treated Wichita's sister like she was his daughter. Any zombie ever got to Little Rock would have to do it over Tallahassee's cold dead body and that, brother, was going to be some job.

All this is to explain how it was that the girl I'm crazy about and I were all alone together one day and able to make all this noise without attracting attention.

During this flashback I must have let my attention slip because Wichita cried out.

"Columbus! More! Harder!"

I complied. I was astounded how good I was at this. After all, in spite of stories I might have told to certain people, I had never done this before. Or anything like it before. But here I was. And it wasn't like Wichita was giving directions or anything like that, except by the volume of the sounds she has been making.

Oh my God. I can't believe it. Wichita has been moaning and groaning and letting out all kinds of sounds since I started. But then I have been too. But I just made Wichita purr! Like a cat. Like a big happy sexy dark-eyed cat. And now she just collapses on the bed. Well I'm pretty worn out myself so I join her. She wraps her arms around me and hugs me even tighter that she did that night at the park.

"That... was... awesome! YOU are awesome!"

I blush. Happily though. I'm glad she feels so good now. The mind-blowing kiss she gives me makes me feel pretty darned good too.

It's got to be the boots she wears all the time. They look great on her but they have GOT to be hard on her feet.

Otherwise why would she go so crazed over a foot massage?

(The End)

(Hehehehehe... Did you think that they were "Laying some pipe"? "Going twenty toes"? "Putting Percy in the playpen"? "Wallpapering the closet"? "Passing the gravy"? "Going Heels to Jesus"? Our Columbus for goodness sake? Maybe in a future story. And doesn't Tallahassee have a way with words?)


End file.
